


unwinding

by annadavidson



Series: that which shaped the century (a dragon age dual au) [19]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Dual AU, Dual AU, M/M, zevwarden week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: Piras thought Zevran made it look easy.Prompt: Massage - The sort of skills that one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse.





	unwinding

Piras thought Zevran made it look easy. Fighting, staying in shape. In general majority of his companions made it look easy, but for obvious reasons, his attention was often on Zevran. He didn’t know how he did it – fight hordes of darkspawn at his side and then have plenty of energy for their more  _personal_  activities. While Piras quite enjoyed Zevran’s stamina, he wasn’t happy with his own lack of it.

Although it had its perks. They had both discovered that they enjoyed cuddling. Sex and make outs weren’t the only things they could do together. Zevran found that he enjoyed when Piras fell asleep in his arms by the fire after a long day of traveling, fighting, and trying to solve all of Ferelden’s problems.

Those problems seemed to weigh Piras down as if he’d been tossed into the deep end of a murky lake with bricks tied to his ankles. He was just a young man – turned eighteen a few days after he left the Circle – who wanted to run away as far as he could and never have to fear the Chantry again. He was just a young man who never wanted to be caged again. Yet here he was, clearly feeling trapped,  _caged_  by the Blight and politics. He’d traded in one kind of fear for another, and there was no telling whether he would conquer the Blight or die trying.

Tonight, however, those burdens seemed heavier than usual to Zevran. Piras sat forward, arms resting on his legs, eyes staring absently at the fire. He didn’t seem to be listening to the conversations going on around him. His childhood best friend, Christian, glanced every now and then at him, looking worried but kept his distance as if he either didn’t know how to help – which knowing how close those two were, Zevran doubted that – or he thought he’d do more damage than help. Perhaps he thought that Piras should be left alone to feel whatever it was he was feeling or trying not to feel.

Zevran disagreed.

While the others in their party could talk to Piras and  _try_  to figure out what was wrong and how to help, he knew they couldn’t help the way he could. He knew Piras reacted more to soft kisses and gentle touches than to words. For majority of the mage’s life, words had been either meaningless or underlined with threats. That was Circle life. Words couldn’t comfort in the way that physical contact could.

Zevran approached the Warden, sitting next to Piras and slinging one arm around his waist. Piras registered his touch almost instantly, his absent gaze becoming more focused and turning to the rogue.

“Deep in thought?” Zevran asked.

Piras hesitated. “Just… tired.”

Zevran didn’t believe that was it, but he’d learned that if he pushed when Piras didn’t want to budge, the mage would put his guard up and close himself off. Instead of pushing, he slid his hand up Piras’ side, watching as the mage’s cheeks darkened.

“Perhaps a massage will help?” he offered with a sly smile.

Piras started to grin. “When you say  _massage_  do you mean an actual massage or sex?”

Zevran thought that the Warden would be happy with either, even both, but he could see the weariness etched into the brunette’s body. As much as he would have liked to have some  _fun,_  he knew what Piras needed most was rest and relaxation – and he knew while Piras loved their alone time that required little to no clothing, he also knew that that would make the Warden want to stay awake, to feel energized,  _alive._  He thought it would be best if he could coax the Warden into his arms and lull him to sleep. At least when he slept, Zevran could watch over him and chase the Blight away. If he faced down a nightmare full of darkspawn, Zevran could gently wake him up, place soft kisses behind his ear, and lull him back to sleep.

At least when he slept, Zevran could try to protect him. He couldn’t stop the Blight. He couldn’t keep the nightmares from coming. He couldn’t tell Ferelden’s politicians and Loghain’s band of usurpers to shove it and solve their own problems. He couldn’t tell Namera to take all of the lead, take all of that weight from Piras’ shoulders – even though he thought she would if she could. But what he could do was make sure the young mage got some peace in his life. Peace stolen in moments of private intimacy. Peace stolen in moments of sleep. Peace stolen in moments embraced in his lover’s arms.

It was a temporary peace, but Zevran was happy to oblige.

“Zev?”

He hadn’t realized he’d drifted off, thinking of all he would do for the Warden who now watched him with a mix of curiosity and concern. Looking back, he thought it was odd that there was ever a point when he’d tried to kill such a vibrant, kind young man – though he was certain Piras would never admit to being kind. The Warden wanted to be tough, steel that the Chantry couldn’t crack.

“How about an actual massage?” Zevran offered, shifting so he sat behind Piras with his legs stretched out on either side of the other man. He heard a hum of approval as he started to peel the armor off the mage before slipping the mage’s shirt off. He would watch for any shivering, but close to the fire, he was certain Piras would be able to stay warm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught them receiving a few odd glances from some companions as if the others expected them to rip the rest of their clothes off and start having their way with each other right in front of everyone. Zevran, admittedly, wasn’t sure if Piras would be into that or not, but he leaned more toward Piras preferring that remain a  _private_  activity.

He took a hair tie offered by Piras and reached up, gently tying the mage’s long, straight hair up so it would stay out of the way. When he was done, he searched the mage’s back, shoulders, and neck to find where the knots were. He frowned at how tense Piras seemed to be.

 _“Relax,”_  he whispered close to Piras’ ear. He let his hands get to work and soon the Warden was making pleased hums with occasional groans whenever his hands found a tougher wound knot.

Eventually, Piras leaned back, preventing him from rubbing anymore. He rested against Zevran, his head lulled to the side so if he wanted, he could easily look up and see the rogue. Zevran’s arms came to wrap around him, and he placed a soft kiss against his temple. He could tell Piras was still awake, but the Warden’s eyes were closed, and he sighed, content in his lover’s arms.

Not for the first time, while watching him, Zevran wondered if this was what falling in love felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/163653770210/unwinding).


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